


Castles and Chasms

by Talis_Borne



Series: Nimueh’s Spell [7]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Arthur Knows, Bromance, Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Magic Reveal, Morgana Attacks, Uther/Arthur fighting, post series 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-25
Updated: 2014-06-23
Packaged: 2018-01-26 10:59:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1685882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talis_Borne/pseuds/Talis_Borne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The divide between King and Heir is widening, and what better wedge for their enemies to use against them than the Knights of Camelot?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Nimueh’s Spell uses Merlin series 1-3 as cannon and ignores the events of successive series, though I do pick up Agravaine from series 4.  
> I don’t own the rights to the Merlin TV series and I’m not intending to make any money off these stories. This is strictly for sharing between friends.  
> Thanks to Res for all her encouragement!

Merlin was knocking spider webs and dust off the cornices of the great room at Thoal keep when he heard Cadby scream. Dropping his broom he ran outside, hoping that Cadby was still in the old kitchen garden, which Merlin had assigned him to clear of weeds. Keeping to the walls, Merlin tried to stay as hidden as possible as he rounded the corner, listening for the trouble. 

"Cadby, Sire," Merlin heard the young servant say breathlessly, doubtless in reply to the obvious question. "I'm Prince Arthur's servant." 

"Merlin is Prince Arthur's servant," snarled a familiar voice. 

Merlin's first inclination was to stay hidden, but he couldn't leave Cadby at Aggravaine's mercy. "So I am," said Merlin, stepping out to find Agravaine menacing Cadby with his sword. "Is there a problem, my Lord?" 

Agravaine startled slightly at the sound of Merlin's voice. He sidestepped so that he could see both servants at once. "Merlin, who is this?" he demanded. 

"This is Cadby, my Lord, Prince Arthur's new servant," said Merlin coming up to stand beside his junior. 

"New servant?" demanded Agravaine. 

"My duties have expanded as Arthur's have, my Lord," explained Merlin patiently. "He finally decided there was enough work for two." Then he added cheekily, "Kind of nice for me. I have someone I can order around now." 

Merlin's impertinence annoyed Agravaine, as he knew it would. "And what are the two of you doing here?" demanded the knight. 

"Since the knights are practicing here, Arthur wanted some of the rooms set to rights," said Merlin. 

"And the garden cleaned out?" asked Agravaine suspiciously, with a jerk of his head at the hoe that Cadby had dropped. 

"That was my idea, my Lord," said Merlin seriously. "I have to haul out food for the knights when they come and there's plenty of garden truck here in among the weeds. Why not use it?" 

Agravaine glared at Merlin. He transferred the glare to Cadby and took a half step closer to the smaller servant. "I haven't seen you in Camelot before. Why haven't I seen you?" 

Cadby stammered unintelligibly and Merlin answered for him. "In truth, my Lord, how many servants do you actually see in Camelot? We're trained not to be seen. If you saw most of the palace servants in town without livery, I doubt you'd know they worked at the castle." 

Agravaine's eyes shifted suspiciously between the two servants, then leaned toward Merlin. "That's one more duty you fail at. I think I'll take a look at what you've accomplished." 

"We've only just begun, my Lord," Merlin protested mildly. 

"No matter," said Agravaine, sheathing his sword, "I am in no rush to return. Might as well take a turn around the place." Agravaine sauntered away. 

Cadby grasped Merlin's arm in panic. "Am I in trouble?" 

"A bit," affirmed Merlin, looking after Agravaine. Dropping his voice, he said, "Agravaine believes that Arthur is in league with a sorcerer. When he saw you here, he thought he might have caught him." 

"But I'm no sorcerer," hissed Cadby fearfully. 

Merlin reassured him. "Just go about your duties. When Agravaine sees that you are what you said you are, he'll lose interest." Merlin patted Cadby's hand firmly to get him to let go. 

"Everything will be fine," Merlin called over his shoulder, as he returned to his own work. Taking up his broom again, Merlin could hear Agravaine's booted footsteps overhead. He'd finished knocking down detritus from the cornices and started on the floor when Agravaine appeared in the doorway. Merlin stopped his work and asked deferentially, "Is there something I can do for you, my Lord?" 

Agravaine slowly advanced into the room. "You come with Arthur when he practices here, don't you, Merlin?" 

Since Agravaine had seen him at the keep, Merlin could hardly lie. "Yes, my Lord," but he quickly thought to mitigate what might be in Agravaine's mind, "but I'm not allowed to set foot out of this room while the knights practice." 

Agravaine advanced several more slow steps. "Hmm, interesting that you hadn't seen fit to clean it before this?" 

"I hadn't a broom with me, my Lord," grated Merlin. 

"Of course," said Agravaine with an oily smile. He turned and left. 

Merlin sighed out his tension, wondering how suspicious Agravaine was of him and how he might allay those suspicions. 

********************

The four Knights of Camelot rode silently through the forest, alert for any signs of danger. The smell of recently burnt timbers and thatch warned them before any sight and each drew his sword. The lead knight pulled up as they rounded a bend in the road, beholding the evidence that danger did indeed lurk around every turning. Two stone buildings still stood, their roofs fallen in and charred, the rest were little but squared off heaps of ash and charcoal. Villagers hunted through the rubble, but left off at the sight of the four knights. Most stared, some with hope in their faces, others with anger or fear. One woman sank to her knees, sobbing. The knights advanced slowly, resting their swords across their saddles. 

A middle aged man advanced and bowed to the knights. "I am Larkin, milords, headman of this village, which is Stone Grove. Are you come to help us in our hour of need?" 

"Perhaps," said Sir Tremayne, leaning forward over his horse's neck. "Prince Arthur sent us to find out how Lady Morgana treats her neighbors. Is this her work?" 

"It is, Sir," confirmed Larkin, nodding gravely, though he had relaxed visibly at the mention of Prince Arthur's name. "A woman of this village had been given permission to marry onto what was then Lord Gethin's estate. When King Uther ceded it to Lady Morgana, she thought to bring her family back to her parents rather than be ruled by a sorcerer. Lady Morgana would not allow any of her serfs to escape and sent her men to kill the whole family. You can see for yourself how little mercy they showed." 

"Have you sent to your lord for relief?" asked Sir Delwyn. 

"We have, milord, but there's not yet been time for an answer." 

"How many men attacked you?" asked Tremayne sharply. 

"Perhaps thirty, milord," answered Larkin respectfully. 

Tremayne frowned, knowing thirty was likely as high as the peasant could count. "The Lady keeps a lot of soldiers." 

"Quite a few, milord, though I could not say how many," agreed Larkin. "She's already demanded tax from her people to support them, though it is not yet harvest." 

"We need to find out how many," said Tremayne, thinking that Morgana should hardly need an extra tax for only thirty soldiers. "Is there a good overlook of her estate?" 

Larkin pointed to the hills to the east. "The second peak there. You need only follow the road." 

"Does this road cross Morgana's land?" asked Delwyn. "We were warned to stay clear of her property." 

"It does," said Larkin, furrowing his brow, "though not for a space of more than a quarter league, and it goes nowhere near the manor." 

"Is there a way around?" asked Tremayne. 

Hesitantly, Larkin replied, "The road goes to Meadowgrain. If you take the left fork down the road a half a league instead of the right, it will be the third town you come to, then you could come at it from the other side. That should take you a day and a half, perhaps two." 

Tremayne looked off at the distant peak, frowning with impatience. Then he reached into his purse and brought out a small coin. "I thank you for your information, goodman," he said, handing it to Larkin. "Be certain that your news will reach Camelot." 

"Thank you, Sir Knights," said Larkin, bowing and retreating. 

The knights sheathed their swords and continued through the village. It was only after they were well clear of it that they began to discuss their options, but it was quickly clear that none wished to take the longer route. Once they reached the fork in the road they picked up their pace, in the hopes that they could be over Morgana's land before word of their presence could come to her. It was a vain hope. 

Morgana herself awaited them, standing seemingly alone in the middle of the road. The knights pulled up, well away from her and advanced slowly. Tremayne, as the leader of the patrol, dismounted to do the Lady proper courtesy, though she'd killed far too many of his friends for him to have any graciousness in his manner. He bowed to her as courtesy demanded and waited for the Lady to speak first. 

"Since when have the Knights of Camelot been demoted to spies?" she asked acerbically. 

"It has always been the role of the Knights to see that the roads are clear of brigands, my Lady," he answered gruffly. 

She smiled at him sourly. "And do I count as a brigand in your estimation, Sir Tremayne?" 

"It isn't my estimation that matters, my Lady. The King has declared you to be a Lady in good standing with the court. For as long as you serve Camelot, neither I nor any of the Knights can have any quarrel with you." 

"But magic is still illegal in Camelot, and I am a sorcerer," she taunted him. 

Tremayne shivered with anger but before he could speak, Delwyn answered sharply instead. "The King has granted your Ladyship a stay in that matter that you may have time to rethink your ways. King Uther has dealt more than fairly with you. You should give up magic in obedience to the crown." 

"Uther has never dealt fairly with me or with magic and neither will ever serve him," seethed Morgana. With a flick of her hand, dozens of men came screaming out of the woods armed with swords or maces, some of them in light mail armor, more in leather. An arrow lodged in Sir Norwood's neck. Morgana turned away as if uninterested in the carnage. Tremayne ran after her, determined that if she would start the fight, he would finish it. She turned sharply back to him and hurled him into the air with her magic. His back collided with a tree and he slid to its roots, stunned, pain lancing through several broken ribs. 

He lay there, watching, unable to move, as Sir Salton brought his horse's hooves down on the heads of his attackers. One of the mercenaries got under the horse and thrust his sword into its belly. The horse fell, pinning Salton and making him easy prey to a sword thrust. Sir Delwyn laid about him mightily with his sword, but he was no match for the swarm of mercenaries. As they pulled Delwyn from his horse, Tremayne finally managed to climb painfully to his feet. He saw Delwyn disappear into the massed attackers and stumbled to try to save him. Force struck him agonizingly across the length of his injured back, and blackness took him. 

*********************

"Read them and weep, Gentlemen," grinned Gwaine, turning over his cards. 

Across the table, Sir Inigo growled, "Of all the luck!" 

Gwaine scooped his winnings close while Sir Lancelot called over the noise of the tavern for more ale. "Two bottles!" called Gwaine cheerily, glancing toward the large bulk of the innkeeper, but the man had his back to the knights. Gwaine caught a glimpse of a hand clothed in a black glove summoning the innkeeper out the archway that lead to a back room. The innkeeper followed but his stooped posture proclaimed his reluctance. Gwaine rose to try to see who the hand belonged to. 

"Something wrong?" asked Lancelot. 

"I'll be right back," said Gwaine, distractedly craning his neck. "Watch my winnings for me." 

Gwaine slipped through the crowded room, careful for once not to offend by any incautious step, the necessary care slowing him more than he would have liked. Gwaine peered around the archway into a storeroom filled with casks and bottles. Beyond a door leading outside stood ajar. Gwaine reached the slightly open door and leaned causally against the door frame looking through the crack below the topmost hinge. At first he could see nothing, the darkness outside relieved only by the little light spilling through the door. 

"It doesn't matter how much you offer, my Lord, I've heard nothing. I can't tell what I don't know," said the innkeeper, a pleading note to his tone. 

The hair on the back of Gwaine's neck stood up as "my Lord" stepped into the dim light. "There must be something," insisted Agravaine. "The man can't be completely unknown in the city." 

"If he is, he keeps his secret well, as he would have to to keep his head on his shoulders. I have knights as well as guardsmen in my establishment every night, my Lord. No dragon lord is going to come here." 

"But those who know something about him do," insisted Agravaine. "Arthur's knights…" 

The innkeeper interrupted hastily, "I want nothing to do with the Prince's business, my Lord. His Highness has always been a fair man. If the rumors are true, if he's keeping a sorcerer, he does so for the protection of Camelot." 

Agravaine smiled out the corner of his mouth. "Of course he does. Who could doubt it? And yet, sorcerers are a tricky lot." 

"All the better not to anger one, if I knew anything about him, which I don't." 

Silkily Agravaine asked, "So you're telling me that, oh, Gwaine for instance, has never once had too much to drink and let something slip?" 

A surge of hot anger stirred Gwaine's belly. He yanked open the door and stepped into the frame. "Gwaine knows how to keep his mouth shut even deep in his cups," he informed Agravaine roughly. 

The innkeeper startled at his appearance, but Agravaine only tightened his mouth to a hard line. "People who listen at doorways often hear what they'd rather not." 

Gwaine relaxed his shoulders and threw back his head. "Oh, I heard exactly what I wanted to hear. More proof that you're a traitor." 

"I am merely looking out for my nephew's welfare," said Agravaine, recovering his suavity. "I've a bit more experience than Arthur dealing with sorcerers." 

"And you've offered it, I'm sure. If he wanted your help, he'd have accepted." 

Agravaine smiled thinly. "The King accepts my help in this matter." 

"He's not my King," snapped Gwaine simmering. "Uther has my loyalty only as long as he keeps Arthur's. He should listen more to his son." 

"I'm sure you're very loyal to Arthur, Sir Gwaine," said Agravaine, his emphasis on Gwaine's title calling it's legitimacy to question. "I just hope that it's Arthur's secrets you are keeping and not someone else's." 

"I don't know anything about a dragon lord either, my Lord," snarled Gwaine, making even more of a mockery of Agravaine's title than Agravaine had his. "Go and tell your master that his hound has failed. You're barking up the wrong tree." 

Agravaine gave a mocking bow and sauntered away. 

Gwaine stared after him a moment then turned to the innkeeper. "You will not repeat this conversation." 

The innkeeper shook his head. "Of a certainty, Sir, I will not." 

Gwaine stood aside and motioned with his head for the innkeeper to enter the storeroom. He pulled several coins from his purse and handed them over. "Fetch us some ale then. My mates and I are thirsty." He walked away hoping he'd been generous enough, or scary enough for the innkeeper to keep his mouth shut. 

********************** 

Irritated, Agravaine returned straight to the castle. That Gwaine, a commoner, should strut around in a knight's armor and speak so to Agravaine, a prince of royal blood, infuriated him. Demoted to a lord's status and forced to spend most of his life on his estate, Agravaine had long dreamed of the day when he could unseat Uther and visit back his insults upon him tenfold. And now here was his hated son elevating commoners to knighthood! That was almost as bad an insult as Uther making Agravaine's life part of Ygraine's wedding present. 

Agravaine fixed a vapid smile on his face to cover his internal seething. No one could know, no one could suspect how much he hated the Pendragons. He gave an encouraging nod to the guard at the castle gate, wished a good evening to the knights he passed in the corridors on the way to his quarters, all the while in a rage that he should be brought so low as to have to take the taunts of trumped up commoner. A slammed door drew his attention and Agravaine looked down the hall to see Arthur striding away from Uther's door, his fists balled and his arms swinging with the desire to punch. 

Agravaine stopped with his hand held out to his own door, his thoughts spinning round his nephew and his common born knights. Uther had been annoyed to find that Agravaine had been installed in quarters so close to his own, which satisfied Agravaine almost as much as being able to spy on, and gloat over, Uther's condition so closely. Agravaine pulled back his hand. He prided himself on careful planning, but he wasn't about to miss an opportunity dropped into his lap so fortuitously, particularly one handed him by one he wished an ill turn. Agravaine schooled his countenance into a mask of sympathy and rapped timidly at Uther's door, ignoring the guardsmen on either side. 

"Come!" called Uther's voice from within. 

Agravaine stepped inside, closing the door softly behind him. "Was that Arthur I just saw leaving?" he asked, all consideration for the King. 

"Yes, of course it was," snarled the King looking harried. "I don't know what to say to him. It always starts off well enough. He tries. I try. But no matter what, he ends up furious and I end up frustrated." 

"I wish I could help, Sire," said Agravaine oozing understanding. 

"You can't and if you tried, you'd undoubtedly make things worse," snapped Uther. 

"I can see this is the wrong time for my news," said Agravaine, laying his hand on the door handle. 

"Undoubtedly," agreed Uther. 

"Tomorrow would be better," said Agravaine, opening the door, "when you and Arthur are both calmer." 

"Wait," commanded Uther. He signed that Agravaine should close the door, which he did. Uther pinned Agravaine with his steely gaze and said in a voice loaded with warning, "Don't think I'm not wise to your verbal tricks, Agravaine. You came in here with something on your mind and you mean to have your say. I see that. But if you've come to implicate my son in something when he's been with me for the last hour…" 

"No," said Agravaine with a nervous laugh. "No, of course Arthur's done nothing. I'm probably overreacting anyway. It was only a conversation. And Arthur is so obviously devoted to you that nothing can come of it anyway, that's quite clear." 

Uther took his seat as though it were his throne. "Say it straight out, Agravaine, whatever it is. Enough of your games." 

Agravaine looked at his feet as though reluctant. "The knights have begun to declare themselves, my Lord." 

"Declare themselves?" snapped Uther, considering this. "For myself or Arthur?" 

"There was a conversation, Uther," said Agravaine earnestly. "This evening at the tavern." 

"Yes?" questioned Uther. "I've no wish to be dragging out of you what you so obviously desire to tell me." 

"Sire, surely you can't believe…" 

"Agravaine!" 

"Very well, Sire. There was a conversation at the tavern. The jist of it being that you should be listening to Arthur rather than the other way around." 

Uther shook with rage. "It was those common born knights, wasn't it?" 

"They weren't the only ones present at the tavern, Sire, though certainly Gwaine was the most vocal on the subject." 

"He would be. Tell me truly, how many on each side?" 

Agravaine rolled his shoulders uncomfortably. "None refused to hear the matter, Sire, though few actually declared themselves." 

Uther got up and began to pace. "Arthur was a popular ruler during his Regency." 

"True, Sire, but Arthur preserved your throne for you. He certainly wouldn't rebel against you." 

Uther ran his hand through his hair as he paced. "A ruler doesn't always do what he would prefer. There are pressures, Agravaine, and Arthur is young. If enough of the knights made it clear they would support him… with all of the arguments we've been having… Arthur might well be persuaded that he is more fit to be King." 

"Oh, that couldn't really happen," assured Agravaine. 

"Really?" demanded Uther, stopping in front of Agravaine. "Then why were you so eager to bring me this news? You with your glib tongue, don't think I don't know you, Agravaine." 

"Very well, if you will allow me to speak plainly, Sire, you have not always reposed much confidence in me." Uther snorted in reaction and Agravaine continued, "That is why I often feel the need to work up to a subject. It's so much easier to talk to Arthur." 

"Yes, I'm sure it is," snapped Uther. 

"He does see me as a kindly Uncle, as does the Lady Morgana," said Agravaine. 

"How did the Lady Morgana get into this conversation?" demanded Uther. 

"Sire, I have done my utmost to encourage Arthur to talk to you and try to settle your differences, and I flatter myself that I have done some good. You did say he's been making some efforts in that direction?" 

Uther snorted and nodded. 

"Then allow me to turn my 'glib tongue,' as you put it, to good use and try to persuade the Lady Morgana of your sincerity in wanting a reconciliation." 

Uther stared at him hard-eyed. "I've given her the estate she wanted." 

"Perhaps she is grateful, Sire," suggested Agravaine. 

"She's sent no message since she occupied it, though I have sent several," grumbled the King. 

Agravaine soothed, "Letters do not convey the sound of one's voice, Sire. Only an envoy can do that." 

"You are not exactly my first choice for that duty, Agravaine." 

"And why not, Sire? I… I am sorry, Sire, but many of the knights feel you are wrong to make peace with Morgana. They could not express your true feelings the way I could." 

Uther turned away. "Arthur also objects to my efforts toward his sister." 

"Perhaps he fears she will supplant him, Sire." 

Uther turned back sharply. "Never! If I send you, Agravaine, you must make that abundantly clear. Arthur is my heir and Morgana must support him as such." 

"Of course, Sire," agreed Agravaine, his head nodding loosely on his neck. 

"And Morgana must set aside magic. She can not be a sorcerer and a princess." 

"Princess?" asked Agravaine. 

"Indeed," affirmed Uther. "I've been reluctant to arrange a marriage for Morgana which would have been less than she deserved. As Gorlois' daughter, I could have married her to a knight, perhaps even a minor lord for a decent dowry, but I would prefer to see my daughter become a queen. Camelot is prosperous. There's no reason why a prince or even a king should not seek alliance. No, Morgana will not be Queen of Camelot, but that does not mean that she should not be a queen." 

"Oh, excellent, Sire," exclaimed Agravaine. "Surely, that will satisfy the Lady Morgana of your intentions. And who would not rather be royal than magical? Please, Sire, I beg your permission to bear her this news." 

Uther looked at him sharply. "Arthur may see this offer as a betrayal." 

In a conciliatory voice, Agravaine crooned, "Truly, Sire, he may not be the only one. If you would win back the support of your knights, you must prove your judgments sound, and that quickly. I can think of no better way of doing that than by reclaiming your daughter's love." 

Uther thought for a long moment. Agravaine could practically see the list of others the King might send passing before his eyes. Finally, Uther frowned. "You support Arthur's right to the throne?" 

"Of course," insisted Agravaine, letting some of his natural arrogance show. "He is my sister's son. The blood of the ruling family of Camelot runs in his veins. Do you think I would support your bastard over my own blood?" 

Uther's hand snapped out in an open handed slap. Agravaine covered his burning cheek and bowed his head in submission. Uther growled, "You will never refer to my daughter in that manner again." 

"Never," repeated Agravaine. 

"She's disturbed. She's let Morgause tear her from her rightful place. Once she knows that place is still held for her, that forgiveness can be achieved, perhaps she will return." Uther scowled at Agravaine. "You are the one person in my court who has a tongue as silver as that witch. Be certain you employ it in my service. If you succeed, you will have a suitable reward. Fail me and your world is going to become much smaller." 

Agravaine gravely nodded acceptance of Uther's terms. "I am grateful for this chance to prove my allegiance, Sire. I will not fail you." He bowed his way out, straining mightily against his glee at being made envoy to the one person who might be able to unseat his father's usurper.


	2. Chapter 2

Kay shifted uncomfortably in his saddle. The sun burnt through the morning's chill, but it wasn't the cold that concerned him. He could have asked permission in Camelot, last night or even this morning when Arthur's knights gathered. Instead he waited at a fork in the road on the way to Thoal Keep. If Arthur didn't send him back to Camelot, it would be a testament of the Prince's tolerance. 

Arthur and his knights came into sight chattering and teasing, Arthur's servant riding beside the Prince and just as much a part of the good natured repartee as the Prince himself was. This made Kay feel even more an outsider. It didn't help that the banter quickly quieted as soon as they caught sight of the red-haired knight. The party slowed and the knights acknowledged his presence with nods or faint greetings. 

They only stopped when Kay called urgently, "Sire!" and Arthur pulled up in response. 

Arthur gave Kay a tolerant smile. "I hope we won't be having any alarms today, Sir Kay." 

Kay couldn't quite meet Arthur's eyes. "I hope not as well, Highness. But still I would stand watch for you, if you would allow it." Arthur's smile faded and Kay hurriedly added, "I don't ask to be admitted to your mysteries. I would be content to remain outside." 

The knights exchanged looks that were a bit more than concerned but it was Merlin that Arthur looked to for an opinion. The servant merely shrugged. Kay bit his lip, uncomfortable that a servant would have some say in judgment over him, but clearly Arthur valued his opinion because he tipped his head as though to ask if his servant was sure. In fact all of the knights seemed to be watching for Merlin's opinion. When he nodded affirmatively, Elyan walked his horse forward. 

"He has learned some manners," allowed the knight with a crook to his lips. Kay blushed gratefully. After he'd returned from his quest, Guinevere's brother had requested the honor of a bout and given him a sound drubbing. Knowing he'd earned the other knight's ire, Kay had thanked Sir Elyan for the instruction. Since then they'd been on decent, if formal terms. 

"Very well, come along then," said Arthur. 

Kay allowed himself to fall to the rear as the party continued on, no longer joking, at least not in any way that Kay could understand, though there were smiles and single syllables passed between the knights that seemed to amuse. 

As they approached the keep, Kay dropped off his horse and went to tie the beast to a tree. Lancelot turned back and held out a hand. "I'll take her and put her with ours, if you like," he offered. 

Kay handed over his reins and nodded his thanks to Lancelot. Kay watched as the knights disappeared into the keep and heard the sound of the portcullis dropping behind them, shutting him out. That was all right, Kay assured himself. He'd done nothing to earn admittance to such an august company. The knights with Arthur had faced an immortal army at his side and lived to tell the tale. What had Kay faced? He'd once driven off a half dozen bandits, with several men at his back, nothing more daring than that. The quest he'd gone on for the honor of the Lady Guinevere had been more demanding and dangerous and what had he faced there? A possible fall and a lot of very large spiders. 

Kay shuddered in his armor at the creepiness of the memory. He decided there wasn't much use to doing nothing but watching the road. He walked around the keep looking at alternative points of entry. Where might an enemy spy scale a wall? Pretty much anywhere, he decided. The old keep had plenty of handholds worn in its walls. The forest would provide plenty of cover on three sides for someone to get fairly close as well, though there would be a short run clear of the trees to actually get to those walls. 

Uncomfortably, Kay realized there wasn't much he could do as a lone guard outside the walls. From the ramparts he could watch more effectively, but then he'd be able to see into the courtyard where Arthur was practicing. He could swear not to look, but he wouldn't ask Arthur for a confidence he'd done nothing to earn. 

Scanning between forest and keep as he walked, Kay wondered what kind of innovative tactics Arthur was coming up with. Kay had never fought a sorcerer before but he'd heard plenty of stories of Morgana's magic. Most of those stories listed the dead rather than heroes. No one seemed to have any idea how to combat Morgana's magic and Kay had no doubt he'd be woefully inadequate if he ever came up against it. Uncomfortably, Kay glanced toward the keep and then quickly away, realizing he had come around again to the portcullis and determined not to see anything of Arthur's training even by accident. 

If there was a sorcerer in there… Kay didn't want to think about that possibility. Arthur had dodged the issue when it had come up at Kay's trial. That bothered Kay more than the idea of a sorcerer being close by. If Arthur had control of the sorcerer, then there was really no problem as far as Kay was concerned. The concern was that Arthur felt the need to… well, not lie, but… skirt the issue. 

Kay continued to make rounds of the keep for the rest of the morning, keeping a close eye on anywhere a spy might tie up a horse. The sun was high overhead when he heard Sir Leon calling his name. He hurried around the corner to find Leon out in front of the keep looking all around for him. 

"Ah, there you are," said Leon, spotting him. "Hungry?" 

"As ever," confirmed Kay, patting his stomach. 

Leon laid a hand on his shoulder and led him through the now open portcullis. "Any problems?" 

"None," said Kay, "but I can't think that this keep is very secure either. There are too many ways that a determined man could get in. Probably plenty of places to hide inside too." 

"That got taken care of," said Leon wryly. 

"Oh?" 

"Don't try coming out here by yourself," said Leon, leading Kay through a hay strewn courtyard and down a short flight of stairs into a large hall. The sound of coughing met their ears. 

Gwaine knelt on the hearth, dishing up plates. Percival stood nearby choking, plate and fork in hand, his eyes popping out of his head. 

Tugging his jacket into place, Merlin hurried to Percival's side and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Are you ok?" 

"Yeah," said Percival in a strained voice. Tears rolling from his eyes, he indicated his plate, "but that's awful." 

Merlin swiped a bit of gravy from the edge of Percival's plate with his finger and tapped it on his tongue. "Oh, ah! Gwaine! When I put a bottle of spice in the food bag, I don't mean for you to dump the entire bottle in!" 

Gwaine shrugged. "Well, how was I to know?" 

"I thought you said you could cook!" said Merlin. Arthur, seated at a small table near the fire, started to take a taste and Merlin snatched his plate away from him. "Don't eat that!" Merlin shooed Gwaine away from the fire. He dumped the contents of Arthur's plate back into the cooking pot and the knights who had plates quickly surrendered theirs to the same treatment. Merlin dumped water into the pot until it was full and then strode between Leon and Kay, squeezing between them without slowing down. "Nobody let Gwaine near the stewpot!" he called over his shoulder. 

Kay looked around at the other knights, shocked by the servant's behavior. Surely someone would call him to task for speaking to his betters in such a manner. 

"Maybe you should ask to take Kay's place outside this afternoon," Elyan suggested to Gwaine. 

"Yeah, I think you're going to get creamed," agreed Percival, laughter in his voice. 

"I didn't do it on purpose," protested Gwaine. Everyone but Kay chuckled. 

Leon stepped aside as quick footsteps carried Merlin back into the room, a bunch of turnips dripping clots of earth in his hand. Merlin threw the turnips down on a flat stone that lay by the fireplace that must have been placed there with food preparation in mind. He knelt down and started washing them up. 

As he finished the first, Percival knelt opposite him and asked, "What do you want done with them?" He added with pride, "I can cook." 

Merlin snorted. "Peeled and cut into small pieces. They'll cook faster that way." Merlin kept glancing at Percival's work until he was satisfied the knight could handle that much at least. As soon as he finished washing the turnips he turned to trying to skim spices off the top of the stew, but he quickly gave that up as a bad job. Placing his hands on his hips he looked at the bubbling pot as though it had done something to personally offend him. Then he dragged it off the fire and started picking out pieces and piling them on a plate. When he'd finished, he carried the pot out and came back with it empty. He hung the pot back over the fire, threw in some grease and started tossing in the turnips that Percival had finished with. 

Percival grabbed up the turnip tops and offered them to Gwaine. "Here, why don't you go see how the horses like my cooking?" he laughed. 

"I can see when I'm not appreciated," said Gwaine, but he did take the turnip tops and leave the room, mostly to avoid further teasing. 

Arthur stepped onto the hearth and held out his hands to the fire. "Merlin, are we going to eat anytime soon?" 

"Working on it, Sire," said Merlin, annoyed. 

"Is that a new cooking pot?" asked Arthur. 

"Yeah," answered Merlin shortly, stirring the frying vegetables. 

"Where did you get the money for that?" 

"The purse you handed me on the road to Ealdor," replied Merlin. 

"You didn't think perhaps you should have given that back?" asked Arthur, annoyed in his own turn. 

"You never give me household money. I didn't keep it for myself," said Merlin a trifle sharply. 

"Well, you can give the rest back when we get back to Camelot." 

"Ah, I spent it," said Merlin, blushing. 

"A cooking pot does not cost what I put in that purse," said Arthur severely. When Merlin said nothing, Arthur tilted his head and demanded, "What did you spend it on?" 

"It's a surprise," said Merlin, his eyes flicking meaningfully from Arthur to Kay. 

Arthur looked at Kay (who was trying to do anything other than stare at Merlin's outrageous behavior) as though resenting his presence. He growled at Merlin, "Am I going to like this surprise?" 

"Somewhat better than you liked the book," said Merlin, trying to hide an impish grin and coloring up to the tips of his ears. 

Arthur gave an involuntary shudder. "I suppose I should be happy I got the horse back." Arthur walked thoughtfully over to where Kay stood near the door. "Is there something wrong, Sir Kay?" 

Kay shook his head. "Nothing at all, Sire." 

"Are you sure?" asked Arthur. "The way you keep glancing about, you look like a man with something on his mind." 

Kay straightened his shoulders. He certainly didn't want to question Arthur's way of dealing with his servant and the only other question in his mind seemed even more provocative, though perhaps more relevant. "I'm quite confident that you have everything under control, Highness." 

Arthur snorted softly and wandered back over to his seat. 

Lancelot meandered over to Kay and said quietly, "That just irritates him. Arthur expects his orders to be obeyed. When he asks for your judgment, it's with a purpose." 

Leon cringed. Lancelot nodded at him once and Leon shook his head. What communication passed between them, Kay couldn't fathom, but he realized that he'd answered poorly. Kay cleared his throat and approached Arthur. 

Arthur eyed him with a disconcerting coolness. "Yes, Sir Kay?" 

Hesitantly, Kay tried for a better answer. "I have no wish to pry, Highness, but as you asked for my thought, I can't completely help but wonder how one goes about training to catch a sorcerer." 

"And how would you suppose one goes about such training?" asked Arthur, a glint in his eye that dared further inquiry. 

Kay shifted uncomfortably. "At my trial, your Highness didn't actually say you weren't using a sorcerer of your own…?" 

"You can't see my sorcerer, Sir Kay?" asked Arthur mildly. 

"No, Highness," responded Kay, looking around the room in confusion. 

"Good," said Arthur. "You can understand that if I were using a sorcerer to help us practice that I wouldn't want it known?" 

"Of course," said Kay, mildly bemused and still wondering if there was a sorcerer or not. 

Arthur peered at him sharply. "You don't find it distressing that I might have such a person in my employ?" 

Kay shrugged. "I've never met or fought a sorcerer, Highness, but I trust that if you've employed one, you can manage him well enough." 

"Why am I the only one this bothers?" demanded Arthur shrilly. Kay cringed back, wondering what he'd said wrong now. 

"Because you're your father's son, Arthur," said Percival. "My father is dead and I still wonder if he'd approve of my actions. I hope he'd be proud of me. Uther is a hard man to please and he's made his condemnation of magic used for any reason quite plain. It's no wonder you're fretting." 

"Who's fretting?" demanded Arthur, clearly offended. 

"You are, and stop it," said Percival pointing a severe finger at the Prince. "You're right, the King is wrong and we'd tell you if we thought it otherwise." 

"Food's ready!" called Merlin, bringing Arthur his plate. 

"Merlin, this looks worse than what Gwaine was serving," complained Arthur, poking at the mass of browned turnip served with thin gravy and bits of unidentifiable meat. 

"Yes, but you should be able to get it down without choking," replied Merlin, taking up the ladle to dish up for the knights. 

Kay frowned at Merlin as he accepted his plate, but the servant met his gaze with the most challenging look. 

"Kay," said Arthur, "I think you should join us this afternoon." 

Kay startled. "Sire?" 

"Are you sure about that, Arthur?" asked Lancelot. 

"Did any of you chance to glance at the patrol roster I posted this morning?" asked Arthur. 

"I did," said Leon. "I meant to ask you why you have us riding with so many different patrols instead of keeping us as a group?" 

"Because you're the only ones who have experience fighting a sorcerer," replied Arthur. 

"And we're rubbish at it," said Gwaine returning and claiming a plate. 

"But you do have some idea what to do," said Arthur. "If you run into Morgana, that knowledge could save a patrol, if you can communicate it quickly." 

The knights glanced at each other nervously. "I don't know if that's going to work, Arthur," said Elyan. 

"That's why we're going to try it with Kay here. Get you thinking," said Arthur. "If nothing else, men talk to each other on patrol. Start talking about the need to coordinate attacks. Too much of our training is one on one. Fair fighting is for contests, not battle fields. I'll have to see what I can do about altering those attitudes in training, but I'm going to need your support." 

"You have it, Arthur, always," said Leon. The other knights voiced similar affirmations. 

Lancelot started gathering up plates. When he reached for Gwaine's, Gwaine offered, "I'll trade?" 

"Not a chance," replied Lancelot merrily. 

Gwaine caught a good deal of laughter and good natured jostling as the knights exited to the courtyard. Following along, Kay glanced back to see Lancelot taking Merlin's plate. Surely the servant should be seeing to the dishes? 

"All right, all right," said Arthur, calling the knights to order. "So how are we going to take care of our ignorant man? Sorry, Kay." 

"Can't complain about the truth, can I?" asked Kay, perplexed at finding himself in such company. 

"I take it we're not to tell him anything ahead of time?" asked Leon. At Arthur's nod, Leon said, "Then we should pair him with someone. I'd take him, but I wanted to try crossbow again. If I get out of sight and take high ground…" 

"That's a good thought," said Arthur. "Take your position now. We'll start the attack with your first shot. That should give you time to reload for a second." 

"Maybe we should all get out of sight? Element of surprise?" asked Gwaine. 

Arthur tipped his head side to side, considering. "We haven't tried that before. All right. Though… Leon?" Leon turned on the bottom step leading up to the second floor of the keep, crossbow in hand. Arthur grinned, "I'm not standing out as observer." Leon nodded thoughtfully. 

Percival tapped Kay on the shoulder. "I'll take Kay with me." They found places against the wall that lead out of the courtyard toward the garden. Kay trusted Percival's judgment, as presumably, he knew where the sorcerer was coming from. Gwaine and Elyan took positions inside the arch of the portcullis, opposite to Leon and off to one side of the other two knights. Arthur stood at the far side of the courtyard from the entrance to the great room. 

It was only a moment before Merlin came out of that entrance, now in chain mail, a helmet tucked under his arm. "Where is everyone?" he asked, approaching Arthur. 

Arthur strolled casually toward his servant; his hands held palm out, open and empty at his sides. "We decided to try something new." 

At the instant Merlin reached the center of the courtyard, the thwack of a crossbow firing sounded and a bolt halted in midair inches from Merlin. Arthur lunged at his servant. Merlin fell back a step, the helmet falling uselessly from his hands. The four hidden knights raced across the courtyard, Kay surprised to be attacking the servant, but following Percival's lead gamely. The crossbow bolt fell and Arthur soared backward. He twisted in mid air, desperately trying to get his feet under him and landed on one knee. Merlin's attention turned to Gwaine and Elyan, who dived for the ground. Merlin motioned as though smacking a tabletop and the two knights grunted in pain as force smashed down from above them, knocking the breath out of them. Percival and Kay had reached the sorcerer and raised swords to strike, Kay wide-eyed after having seen Arthur thrown. But an outward motion from Merlin sent both flying. Arthur raised a hand to throw a rock and Merlin made a twisting motion in the air as though turning an invisible dance partner. Arthur's arm twisted painfully, causing him to drop the projectile, just as a crossbow twanged for a second time. 

"Ow! That hurt!" complained Merlin, feeling the spot on his back where the blunted crossbow bolt had struck as Arthur called a halt. 

"Yeah, well, you're not exactly giving out love taps either," grumbled Gwaine from the ground. 

"Where did he get you exactly?" asked Arthur, limping slightly toward Merlin and turning his servant roughly so that he could look for the chalk mark he knew the bolt would leave. "Definitely a kill shot," he grinned. 

"Yes, but it takes six of you bloody knights to do it. That was not fair," whined Merlin, as those on the ground climbed heavily to their feet. Percival put out a hand to help up Kay, who was shaking his head as though denying the possibility of what had just happened. Kay let Percival pull him to his feet, glancing back and forth from Prince to Sorcerer, still trying to regain his breath and feeling that all his earlier questions had been answered. Here was the sorcerer and the knights treated him as an equal because he was more than that on the battlefield. 

Arthur snorted. "It's not fair that Morgana's killed so many of my men. If I have to 'cheat' to keep her from killing any more, I've decided I'm fine with that." 

"Has something else happened?" asked Leon, rejoining the group. 

Arthur turned his eyes away. "Nothing but that Morgana has occupied the estate Father has given her. The patrol I sent to check on her is overdue." 

"There are a lot of reasons a patrol can be overdue," Elyan assured him quietly, getting up from the flagstones. 

"Two days?" asked Arthur ruefully. "At this distance?" 

Elyan grimaced. 

"Who did you send?" rumbled Percival. 

"Delwyn, Tremayne, Salton, and Norwood. I told them to stay off Morgana's lands, just to ride the roads around the estate and see what they could pick up." 

"So when do we go after them?" asked Gwaine. 

"We know that Morgana has the means to employ dozens of mercenaries. When we go, we should be prepared to meet a force of at least that size. I'm not sure that I can command out a force of that size without Father countermanding my order. In fact, I'm fairly certain he will, given his present frame of mind." Arthur shook his head. "I don't have a choice. I'll brace Father on the subject this evening." 

"I might be able to give you some help against Morgana," offered Merlin. 

"I doubt your magics are up to taking on Morgana," Arthur replied. "No matter how many knights you can throw around." 

"I wasn't suggesting a battle arcane," said Merlin, ducking his head with hurt sombering his eyes. "Did you want your surprise now?" 

"Something to help against Morgana?" asked Gwaine jauntily. 

"Don't get too excited," cautioned Merlin. "It's only a little help. And you have to promise not to use them against me in practice, or to use them for a stake no matter how good the cards you hold." 

"I don't bet what I can't afford to loose," huffed Gwaine. 

"Usually," called Lancelot, who had just come up from the great room. 

Merlin bustled away, but came back after only a moment, holding a thick roll of leather. Merlin knelt down and unrolled the bundle as the knights gathered around, exposing seven fairly small daggers, no longer than a large man's hand; each hilt wrapped in etched leather, each steeply sided triangular blade glinting in the sun. "I'm glad I brought them all. I almost didn't. I didn't realize we'd have Kay with us today," he said, handing one to Arthur first. 

Kay looked down at the sorcerer amazed that he would know that Kay would join Arthur's company when Kay had only hoped and not for nearly so much. 

Elyan plucked one of the knives from the ground and appraised it with a professional eye. "Good quality blade, but I can't imagine what it would do against Morgana." 

"I enchanted them," explained Merlin. "They're perfectly ordinary blades, unless someone tries to touch them with magic. Morgana could block one with sword or shield, but if she tries to block it with magic, well, it's painful. The closest I can tell you is that it would feel like she'd tried to grab a hot coal out of the fire barehanded." 

"That should certainly surprise her, if nothing else," said Leon. 

Percival threw his up so it spun once in the air and caught it. "Made to be thrown?" he asked. 

Merlin nodded. 

"If we can get that close," said Elyan practically. 

"We'll get that close," said Arthur, examining his new blade. "Morgana will attack again and this time, I won't hesitate." 

Kay startled slightly, wondering when the Prince had missed his chance at the Lady Morgana. 

Merlin climbed to his feet and offered the last knife to Kay, hilt first. "Take it." 

Kay accepted it, mumbling, "I don't know what I've done to earn this." 

"You haven't," said Arthur sharply, "but you will." 

Kay threw out his chest and raised his chin. "Sire, I will," he swore heartily. 

**********************

"Bend my knee to Arthur? Never," hissed Morgana pacing before the grand fireplace. The sturdy black dress she had most often worn while she lived in a forest hut had been exchanged for a dark green satin of an older cut. It had been taken from the attic of the manor Morgana now occupied and made over to suit her. Morgana had insisted the five women working on it not sleep until it was finished, though it took them two whole days and nights. 

"This is an opportunity not to be lost, my Lady," smiled Agravaine over a mug of mead as he lounged after the fine dinner they had shared in Morgana's hall. Agravaine had carefully maintained his veneer of being Uther's messenger while there were ears to hear, but now that the servants had been dismissed, he dropped that guise completely. "Uther desires a reconciliation. Give it to him. Tell him anything he wants to hear. You can tear Camelot apart from within." 

"No," she insisted, frustration roughening her voice. "I've lived that life long enough already. I won't go back to that particular hell." 

Agravaine frowned at the beautiful witch. "There's no substitute for living close to your intended victim, my Lady." 

"And smile while he barters me off like a prized sow to benefit Arthur?" she scoffed bitterly. "Everything Uther does is for himself or his son. I'm nothing but a show piece; the grateful orphan appreciatively smiling for whatever crumbs he deigns to drop. Except I'm not an orphan, I'm his daughter! That he should have had so many years to use me as a display for his generosity when all the time he hid from me my birth rights!" 

"You've been horribly wronged, my Lady," agreed Agravaine. 

"Don't mock me, Agravaine," she growled. 

"I do not, I assure you," said Agravaine quickly. "I too have known nothing but Uther's abuse. I desire nothing more than his death, a long slow death." 

"I should have killed him while I had the chance," she said vindictively. 

"Probably," agreed Agravaine, "but it's so hard to pass up the chance for a truly satisfying revenge." 

"I wanted him to suffer," she seethed. 

"He thinks he's suffering now under your rebuff." 

She gave him a shrewd look out of the corner of her eye. "That's hardly suffering. He's lost control of me and he knows it. He wants his pet back in her kennel." 

Agravaine leaned forward. "Let him think he's getting that." 

"Never!" 

Agravaine sighed and hurriedly set to work on a new plan. "So don't go to Camelot. Send Uther letters telling him how much you want to, but you can't because you're afraid of Arthur." 

"Why should I be afraid of Arthur?" she demanded. 

Agravaine's eyes lit as he warmed with his own cleverness. "Uther and Arthur are having terrible fights, my Lady, some of which are over you. Arthur doesn't approve of Uther giving you this estate." 

She tossed her head arrogantly. "This is the least of what he should have given me." 

"Be that as it may, it wouldn't be difficult to convince Uther that Arthur had threatened your life." 

"And then what?" she asked sarcastically. "Let him arrange a marriage for me in some country where I can be 'safe' from my brother?" 

"Let me see what I can work from there. We'll give Uther a bit of rope and then see if we can wrap it around his throat. Could anything be better than if Uther worked his own doom?" 

"I could be more pleased if Arthur and Uther managed to kill each other," she said spitefully. 

Agravaine chuckled. "As much as they're fighting, you might get your wish." 

Morgana appeared thoughtful. "What are the other fights about - besides me?" 

"No one is quite sure. Most of the fights are quiet and behind closed doors. The public fights have been few and utterly incomprehensible. They started when Arthur championed that dragon lord, who he still won't turn over. And the rumors say that Arthur has employed a sorcerer." 

"Arthur is championing magic?" asked Morgana, startled. 

"No," said Agravaine thoughtfully. "He's denying making any use of magic. He's made it clear enough that he wants to destroy you for yours, but there are indications that he's willing to utilize magic in that effort." 

Scornfully, she asked, "Who would be so stupid as to work for Arthur as a sorcerer? He'll only destroy them when he's done with them." 

Agravaine shrugged. "Greed often overcomes sense and Arthur can afford to pay. Or he may have caught someone and offered them their life in exchange for their allegiance. Not that I think he'll honor such a bargain." 

"He won't. He's too much like Uther. Uther would make such a bargain and betray it. If Arthur thinks he can catch me because he's hired some stupid hedge witch who can't recognize the danger he represents, he is sorely mistaken." 

"That's all to the good for us, surely," said Agravaine. "Let him be overconfident. His arrogance can work for us. In the meantime, Arthur and Uther both believe I am Uther's agent. I'm using that position to drive the wedge further between them. What assets can you lend me in that endeavor?" 

************************

Agravaine solicitously helped Sir Tremayne from his horse, an action Tremayne sorely resented. His ribs ached every time he took a breath and every step the horse had taken toward Camelot had been torture. Still he had no wish to appear the invalid. He slowly followed Agravaine up the steps to the audience chamber, resenting the loss of his armor, which he was certain would now go to one of Morgana's men to protect him in battle. 

As they entered the audience chamber, Prince Arthur hurried forward to grasp Tremayne's arm in welcome. "Sir Tremayne, where are the others?" 

"Dead," said Tremayne shortly. 

Agravaine nodded respectfully at Arthur as he passed him and approached the King. "Sire, I have letters from the Lady Morgana," he said, offering them. 

Uther seized the paper, ripping open the seal and moving toward the light from the clerestory windows. 

"What happened?" asked Arthur. 

"We failed you, Highness," said Tremayne, full of self-accusation. "We came across a village Morgana had attacked. They gave us information about the strength of her forces, but we knew we needed to confirm it for ourselves. The route to the best overlook took us across a corner of Morgana's land. We thought we could be over it before she realized we were there, but she was waiting for us, along with several dozen men." 

"And what exactly were you doing on Morgana's estate, Sir Tremayne?" demanded the King, red-faced and furious. 

Sir Tremayne bowed his head in shame at his failure. "Prince Arthur sent us to espy what forces Lady Morgana was gathering to her." 

"How dare you?" Uther demanded of Arthur. "I am trying to negotiate a peace with Morgana. How dare you send men to upset my chances?" 

"Morgana doesn't want peace, Father," responded Arthur heatedly. "She wants time to gather enough forces to make herself Queen again." 

"Enough!" bellowed Uther, waving Morgana's letter at Arthur. "Already Morgana fears you too much to come to Camelot herself." 

"Good!" shouted Arthur. "If it's true, which I doubt." 

Uther strode angrily across the room to confront Arthur closely. Putting all of his authority into his commands he insisted, "You will have nothing further to do with Morgana. You will not send knights near her estate, you will not send her messengers, you will not come near to her in any way." 

"Yes, Sire," grated Arthur. 

"Sire," implored Tremayne, "the Lady has forces massed…" 

"That is her right!" insisted Uther, interrupting him. 

Shocked, Tremayne beseeched, "Sire, men died to bring this report." 

"Men who need not have died had it not been for my son's interference. Those deaths are on your conscience, Arthur. See to it you spend your men's lives more cautiously in future." The King turned away brusquely and snapped open Morgana's letter to finish reading. 

Arthur took hold of Tremayne's shoulder and steered him silently out of the room. In the corridor the Prince summoned a passing servant and said, "Tell Gaius to attend Sir Tremayne in his chambers." The servant nodded and scampered away. 

Tremayne begged, "Sire you must allow me to give you my report." 

Arthur set his hand lightly on Tremayne's back and steered him toward the knight's quarters. Tremayne involuntarily hissed in pain and Arthur quickly withdrew his hand. "In your chamber," he agreed. "I can see that you're injured." 

"I thank you for the courtesy," said Tremayne, who then proceeded to concentrate on walking and breathing at the same time. When they came to Tremayne's quarters, he held the door open for the Prince as courtesy dictated. 

Arthur hesitated as though he would demur, but walked through first to avoid the delay of a disagreement. "Please, Sir Tremayne, sit down, or lie down if that will be easier. You needn't stand on ceremony in your own quarters." 

"I can't lie down, Sire," said the knight, gratefully taking a seat on his bed. "I can't breathe that way." 

Arthur turned the one chair in the room towards the bed. "How did you survive Morgana's… accommodations?" 

"She chained me to a wall. When I awoke, I was sitting up, and the bodies of my comrades were lain before me. She spoke to me herself several times and she seemed surprised and frustrated at my answers. How she could have thought I might change my loyalty to her I have no idea, but that was clearly in her mind." 

"Did she seem mad to you?" 

"She's lucid enough, but her thinking makes no sense to me. She's quite convinced that she is the rightful Queen and that you and Uther are the evil ones. Sire, she had at least thirty men attack a village on a neighboring estate and more than that attacked us. But I don't think that's all of her force. There were easily that many on guard at her manor and there was smoke from multiple fires off in a direction that wasn't her village." Tremayne coughed painfully and had to take several laborious breaths to regain enough air to continue. "If there were less than a hundred soldiers on that estate, I would be shocked to hear it. And from what signs I saw, I think several hundred more likely." 

"A hundred I could deal with," began Arthur. A knock interrupted him and Arthur called, "Come!" 

Gaius entered the room, followed by Merlin. Gaius bowed to Arthur before offering his services to Sir Tremayne. Arthur waited quietly, anxious to see how badly injured the knight was, while Merlin helped Sir Tremayne off with his shirt and boots and Gaius examined him. Gaius sent Merlin out for more pillows. Merlin returned with his own arms full and Lancelot carrying another load. Tremayne rather resented Lancelot's presence, but he couldn't object to the kindness which was all he saw in the knight's face when he looked up at him. 

Gaius gave Tremayne a draught to make him sleep and tucked a pillow under his knees while he reclined against the pile Merlin had stacked behind him so that he could sleep sitting up. Tremayne still didn't think he'd be able to sleep, though his eyes closed almost of their own accord. 

The four men in the room retreated to near the door. "How bad is it?" asked Arthur's voice, though it sounded to Tremayne as though the sound came from far away. 

Gaius responded, "He'll have to be watched every minute while he's sleeping. If he were to fall over, he could suffocate before he came awake enough to realize what was happening." 

"I can stay with him," offered Lancelot. 

"There may be others he'd prefer," suggested Gaius. Tremayne would have agreed with that if he could, but whatever drug Gaius had given him held him quiet. 

"I'll ask him when he wakes," Lancelot assured him. 

Gaius sighed. "A quick death might be kinder. I've seen injuries like this before. One of his ribs has been broken in three places and pushed in against the lung. It's rubbing on it every time he breathes. Every breath he takes is another injury, though a slight one. It must be very painful for him." 

"But he will recover?" asked Arthur. 

"No, Highness," said Gaius sympatheticly. "Eventually the lung will become so badly damaged that he won't be able to breathe, or will become infected and he'll die of fever. He could hang on for weeks, but I can guarantee him nothing but a long slow painful death." 

"Can't you do anything?" asked Arthur. 

"There is no way for me to get under the rib to push it back out," replied Gaius. If it could be done, he might recover, if the damage isn't already too great, but it's simply not possible." 

There was a pause in which Tremayne struggled to say that he'd prefer a clean sword thrust, but neither muscles nor voice answered his effort. 

"Can you do anything?" asked Arthur again, but clearly of some other person. 

A voice hissed in protest, "Arthur!" 

"He's asleep, he won't know," assured Arthur. 

"I could make it worse," whined the voice: Tremayne thought it must be Merlin's, but it didn't really sound like him and someone else could have come in. 

"You think there's something worse than spending weeks smothering to death in agonizing torment only death will relieve?" asked Arthur. 

Gaius asked severely, "Is that really your decision to make, Arthur?" 

"Yes, it is," Arthur responded firmly. "Do it." 

Tremayne could hear the men move about his room and then strong hands turned him toward the wall and tucked a pillow in front of his belly. Someone at the foot of the bed moved his leg to better balance him. A gentle hand stroked across his back. A much deeper voice than he'd previously heard spoke some words that Tremayne could not make out. Excruciating pain lanced across his back and he fell into a blackness that carried him away from the agony. 

*************************

When he awoke, Tremayne found only Lancelot in his room, leaning back in the wooden chair, his arms crossed over his chest. The light had faded from the windows and the candles on his table had been lit. Tremayne raised himself from his mountain of pillows and found he could breathe more easily than he had of late. 

Lancelot immediately sat up straight. "How are you?" he asked. 

"Better, I think," answered Tremayne, experimentally shrugging his shoulders. The pain in his back had receded to a dull ache. 

"Gaius says you're not to be left alone while you sleep until he says otherwise," Lancelot informed him. "I don't mind, but is there someone you'd rather have?" 

"I can pay for a servant," said Tremayne irritably. "You needn't guard me. Sir Kirkley was my squire for a while. He could find someone appropriate, if he would." 

Lancelot rose and strode to the door. His voice as mild as ever, he promised, "I'll ask him." 

"Sir Lancelot," called Tremayne, "that was rude of me. You gave up your evening to nurse me, I should thank you." 

Lancelot glanced out the window with a small smile. "There's enough of the evening left for me to join my friends." 

"One question before you go. Who pulled the bone straight? Gaius said he could not and I can feel the difference in my back." 

Lancelot took a step away from the door, concern wrinkling his brow. His hand rested where the hilt of his sword would have, had he been wearing one. "You heard that?" 

Tremayne nodded. "Gaius' drugs are strong, but so was the pain." 

Lancelot watched Tremayne's reaction closely. "Merlin popped it back into place." A disarming smile lighted Lancelot's countenance. "He has clever hands, it's his feet he can't sort out." 

"Ah, I knew there had to be some reason Arthur kept the smart mouth." Tremayne tried to rise and Lancelot grabbed his arm to support him. "I'll be fine now, Sir Lancelot," said Tremayne, unable to suppress a twinge of resentment for his own helplessness. "Don't let me keep you further." 

Lancelot backed off, keeping a watchful eye on the injured knight until he was out the door. 

*************************

Elyan stepped onto his sister's porch, taking a moment to let his eyes adjust to the darkness, and rubbed his hand over his very full belly. He'd had to turn down an invitation to play cards with Gwaine and Percival at the tavern, but the meal had been worth it. Now that Guinevere was no longer working as a servant, she insisted on having him over for dinner no less than twice a week, and the dinners were becoming more elaborate, enough so to have qualified as holiday feasts in their childhood years. The new runner she had crocheted for the table added to the festive air. She had shown him the new dress she had sewn herself to which she was now adding embroidery sufficient to make up for any lack of jewelry that a lady might wear. She'd also insisted on taking her brother's measurements for a new suit of clothes. In short, Guinevere was bored and he wondered how long it would take her to go through what spending money she had finding projects for herself. 

A familiar voice reached Elyan's ear. "This way, Sire." Elyan's eyes were drawn down the lane, where Agravaine appeared, leading a cloaked and hooded figure followed by two armored knights: Sir Rexford and Sir Inigo. Elyan stepped behind the timber supporting the porch roof so as to be less visible as they passed by, but he doubted they'd take notice of him since he'd left off his armor and was not much better dressed than any man one might see in this part of town. Curious to see what Agravaine was up to, Elyan followed at a distance. As they reached one of the less well used gates of the city, Elyan startled to hear the timbre of the King's voice drift back to him, though he couldn't quite make out the words. Glancing up at the wall next to the gate, he noticed that it was unmanned, which alarmed him as he was quite certain that there should be two guards stationed there. Peering into the gloom beyond the gate, he neither saw nor heard any horses. Praying that they couldn't get very far before he could return, Elyan turned and sprinted for the tavern. Whatever Agravaine was up to couldn't be good and one lone and practically unarmed knight wasn't going to be enough to circumvent his mischief. 

Elyan stuck his head in the tavern door, spotted his friends, and blew a loud whistle. Signaling them to follow, Elyan then raced back to the spot where he'd last seen Agravaine and the King. The gate was closed but Elyan was certain they'd passed through it. Hurrying there, Elyan found the gate locked. He yanked open the door to the gatehouse and breathlessly demanded the key from the two guards who were playing cards inside. 

One guard started to protest, but the other recognized Elyan, struck his second on the arm, and grabbed up the key, saying, "Apologies, milord. We were ordered to stay in the gatehouse and not look out until the midnight bell sounded." 

"If those orders came from Agravaine, I suggest you ignore them," said Elyan, snatching the key from him with a great deal less than his normal courtesy and applying it to the lock. He looked back as he got the gate open and spotted not only Gwaine and Percival, but also Kay, Lancelot, and Leon following at a trot; all of them armed and armored. Light pooled from two torches attached to the outside of the gate and Elyan snatched one from its holder. Leaving the gate wide, Elyan concentrated on the tracks in the dirt outside the gate. To his relief, he was easily able to discern the prints of two sets of nearly unworn boots following a swath swept by a cloak. He hurried after the tracks, trusting the others to catch up, which they quickly did. 

"Thought you might have been looking for this," said Gwaine, offering Elyan a sword. 

"No, I'm looking for the King," said Elyan, accepting the sword without looking up from the trail. "He walked out of an unguarded gate with Agravaine and two knights." 

"So not just a midnight stroll then," said Lancelot grimly. 

"I'm hoping they didn't have horses waiting for them somewhere," said Elyan, pointing to where the tracks led off into the forest. He dropped the torch and doused it, closing his eyes momentarily to help his eyes adjust to the lack of light. He'd see nothing beyond the pool of light cast by the torch if he took it with him. Better to be able to see a little further, even only in shadow. The knights spread out, looking for signs of passage and listening for voices that might lead them to their quarry. 

It wasn't long before they did hear a voice, the King's, demanding, "Where is she, Agravaine?" The knights advanced as silently as possible, using the trees for cover. The King was standing in a clearing below them, Sir Rexford and Sir Inigo flanking him. 

"I'm here, Father," said Morgana, as she rode into the clearing on a beautiful white stallion, her voice fractionally warmed above a winter's chill. She stopped just at the tree line, a half dozen yards from the King, but only a few feet from Agravaine. 

"Morgana," breathed Uther, raising his arms to her in welcome. "You've no idea how many years I yearned to hear you call me that." 

Morgana dismounted, but did not advance to greet him. "Then perhaps you should have told me the truth?" 

"I wanted to. I was afraid," the King admitted softly, as if he was trying not to spook the dream-like creature before him. 

"Afraid?" she breathed disbelievingly. "As afraid as I was all those years that you would find out I had magic and kill me?" 

"You should have told me, Morgana," her father assured her gently. "I would have tried to help you." 

"How?" scoffed Morgana. "Would you have had Gaius suppress my powers with his potions? That's what he was doing you know. He knew I had magic. He tried to keep it from me so you wouldn't order my execution." 

Uther shook his head. He pleaded with her, "It's Morgause who makes you say these things. Come with me, Morgana. Give up magic. Come back to your rightful life." 

"Morgause is dead and it's she who showed me my rightful life." Morgana's hand flashed out and her magic lifted Sir Inigo into the air, throwing him hard against a boulder. He landed in a broken heap, his neck laying at an unnatural angle. Sir Rexford drew his sword and stepped in front of the King, who placed a hand on his shoulder to restrain him. Sir Leon cried out and led the other knights in a charge from their hiding places. Suddenly, the clearing was alive with battle cries as two dozen of Morgana's mercenaries stampeded out of the woods. 

"No, no!" screamed Uther, protesting the impending carnage, as Rexford tried to push him backward against a tree and use his own body to shield his Lord. Unfortunately, the mercenaries were just a bit closer to the King than Arthur's knights and reached him first. Five converged on Sir Rexford, while the others strove to keep the King's other defenders from him. Rexford's sword was a blur taking out two of the mercenaries before a third struck him a low blow with a mace, which broke his leg with a sickening crack and brought him to one knee. Still he raised his blade to block a sword thrust over his head despite the simultaneous blow being aimed at his body. But the blow at Rexford lost its momentum as Gwaine plunged his sword into the mercenary's back. Lancelot, Gwaine, Leon, Kay and Percival were suddenly between the attacking mercenaries and the King. 

"Get the King out of here," pleaded Rexford. 

"Can you walk?" asked Percival. 

"No!" replied Rexford. "Go, leave me." 

Instead Percival hauled the injured knight to his feet and over his shoulder. Rexford kept a tight hold on his sword, determined to do what he could to protect his King even in so precarious a position. 

"Let's go, Sire!" yelled Sir Leon. 

"No!" screamed Uther, surging forward and grabbing Sir Leon by the shoulder, setting Leon off balance as he franticly parried a blow aimed over his shoulder at the King. "Not without my daughter." 

"Sire, if you haven't noticed, your daughter is trying to kill you," cautioned Lancelot, as he parried a blow and then thrust his sword through the mercenary who had aimed it. 

Kay took a step to one side, behind Lancelot, leaving his opponent for the other knight. He swiftly sheathed his sword and, copying the move he'd seen Percival use a moment earlier, swung the King, protesting, over his shoulder. "Let's go," he said as matter-of-factly as if he had just picked up a sack of grain instead of a howling royal. 

Elyan hung back from the battle a moment as the others charged, assessing the situation. With everyone else concentrated on the King, no one stood between him and Morgana except Agravaine. Agravaine stood off to one side, watching the battle from behind an oak, which told Elyan clearly where his loyalties lay. His dark clothes and skin giving him an advantage in the gloom, Elyan kept within the trees and worked his way swiftly toward the sorcerer. Hunkering down behind an ancient elm, he switched his sword to his left hand and drew the dagger Merlin had given him from his boot. With a snap of his wrist it flew through the air. 

"Morgana!" Agravaine called warning. 

Morgana screamed in pain as the dagger met the force of her magic and veered off course. 

Knowing what was coming, Elyan flattened himself against the rough bark, using the tree as a shield. "Agravaine, you traitor!" he yelled as the bulk of the tree he leaned against shivered under Morgana's furious assault. 

The instant the force expended itself, Elyan raced for the next tree large enough to shield him closer to his companions. He just made it before Morgana's next blow landed, shaking his shelter as though a giant hand had grabbed the boughs. Elyan glanced over in time to see Kay snatch the King. The ranks of mercenaries were thinning; Lancelot, Leon, and Gwaine whirling their swords like Death's own scythe. Kay and Percival were effectively out of the fight, though Percival still held his sword. Morgana had been letting her men fight for her, but one good hit with her magic could cripple their defenses. Elyan had a clear path to Morgana, but nothing to throw. He took tighter hold of his sword and prepared to charge her, hoping to give the others the opportune moment to escape. 

Suddenly, Lancelot cut down the mercenary between them giving Elyan a momentary clear line of sight to the other knight. "Lancelot! Dagger!" shouted Elyan, holding up his hand. Without hesitation, Lancelot yanked his dagger from his boot and threw it to Elyan hilt first, returning instantly to his more immediate danger. 

Elyan caught it and stepped back into a position to throw it at Morgana. Morgana gave him one shocked look and threw herself over the back of her horse. Elyan threw but Morgana ducked low and the blade merely grazed the top of her shoulder as she spurred her horse away from the battle. 

Elyan's eyes met Agravaine's. "Another day!" he called and raced to rejoin his friends, who had begun to retreat up the hill. Elyan stuck his sword mercilessly into the back of one mercenary and crossed swords with another. Elyan's foot slipped on some damp grass, putting him slightly off balance and his opponent pulled back for a brutal two-handed downward stroke. Elyan rolled and came in under the man's now non-existent guard. Then he was beside Lancelot and they were all in a running retreat, slashing at the swordsmen who continued to harry them. 

The mercenaries followed them as far as the road, then melted into the forest. A few steps further brought them within sight of the gate, a lone guard standing atop it. Leon yelled, "Light the signal fire!" The guard complied and a moment later the warning bell answered the signal. A dozen knights galloped out of the gate just as they reached it. "Morgana!" shouted Leon, pointing back the way they'd come and the knights spurred their horses that direction. All the while Uther screamed, "No, no!" Arthur's knights pounded through the gate, Uther kicking and screaming to be put down. Once they were through, Kay complied, dropping the King rather abruptly. 

Uther immediately shoved the red-haired knight with both hands, ranting madly, "You had no right, no right!" 

Percival set Sir Rexford on his feet, though his injured leg would not hold him and he had to keep hold of Percival's shoulder for balance. 

Arthur arrived on the run, sword in hand. "Father!" 

Still screaming at Kay, whose bemused countenance never wavered, Uther raged, "How dare you ignore my orders? You can not drag me from the field of battle or anywhere I wish to be! That Camelot should have sunk so low that my son must make knights of low born farmers who can't even understand the first thing about diplomacy makes me ill beyond anything my daughter could do!" 

"Kay's hardly low born, Father," said Arthur, struggling to be conciliatory while holding on to his own temper. 

Uther wheeled on his son. "Don't you dare throw that in my face! I want them all punished! All of them!" he screamed indicating the breathless knights. 

"What happened?" asked Arthur, lowering his sword and trying to get Uther to make sense. 

"They happened!" exclaimed Uther, his tone twisting simple words into insulting insinuation. "They interrupted my meeting with Morgana! They attacked her. I warned you to have nothing further to do with her. Clearly you've violated my orders by having these… follow me." 

"Sire," said Elyan quietly, "I saw you leave the city and summoned the others. Arthur is not at fault." 

"And what right have you to follow me anywhere, blacksmith?" demanded Uther. 

"None, Sire," Elyan demurred. 

"It was Morgana who attacked first, Sire," said Rexford, shaken by the King's accusations. 

"She wasn't attacking!" insisted Uther. 

"Sir Inigo is dead, Sire!" responded Rexford, shocked. 

"Doubtless because Morgana saw them and believed I'd brought more knights with me than we'd agreed upon," Uther persisted derisively. At Arthur, Uther snarled, "I demand the lot of them be punished. It's only my promise to you that prevents me from having them all hauled into the dungeons this moment." 

Arthur looked at his Father incredulously. "You want me to punish my knights for saving your life?" 

"For endangering my life and my daughter's," growled Uther. 

More guardsmen and knights had gathered during this conversation and many eyes stared at Uther's unreasonable demands. Arthur glanced around at the crowd, gathering his thoughts. "Perhaps a fine?" suggested Arthur, coolly. 

"A fine?" Uther roared. But then his eyes took on a calculating look. "Very well, a fine. Seventy-five gold. Each." 

"I'll collect it and have it to you tomorrow morning," agreed Arthur. 

"See that you do," snarled Uther, striding toward his castle. 

"Arthur, I don't have seventy-five gold," said Elyan quietly. "Seventy-five gold is enough to outfit a knight." 

"That's why he said it," said Percival morosely. "He means to bankrupt the lot of us, force us to sell our horses and armor, so we can't fight as knights." 

"I think I can come up with that amount without selling my equipment, maybe even a little more," offered Leon, through a grimace. 

"I'll pay the fine," insisted Arthur. "You did exactly as I would have ordered had I been there. Seventy-five times six, or is it seven?" he asked looking at Rexford. 

"I was there by the King's order," said Rexford startled. "I would hope he wasn't leveling such a fine at me." 

"I'll stand for it if he does," promised Arthur. "So times six then is…" 

"Four-hundred fifty," said Kay, blanching at the number. "I think I could come up with my share too, Arthur, if I asked my father." 

"You will do nothing of the kind," said Arthur firmly, paling a bit himself at the sum. "None of you are to pay so much as a copper. If I have to pay my Father to save him from himself, I'll do it." Arthur whirled away, leaving his knights to attend to getting Sir Rexford to the court physician. 

*********************** 

"Morgana!" 

Morgana pulled up her stallion at the sound of Agravaine's voice. Agravaine galloped up to her, leading what was left of her mercenaries, each of whom led one or two riderless horses. 

"What was that?" she shuddered in fury. 

"My Lady, you're hurt," he said with concern. He pulled out a handkerchief and attempted to blot the wound on her shoulder, but she shied away from the two daggers in his other hand. 

"Keep those away from me!" 

"In truth, I was concerned about handling them myself," he said holding them out for her inspection, "but as you can see, I've taken no hurt by doing so." 

Hesitantly, she reached out and touched the handle of one of the two knives, snatching her hand away again in anticipation of pain. When none came, she touched it again and then the other one. Experimentally, she reached out to one with her magic and cried out with the force of the enchantment's sting, her horse rearing under her in reaction. When she had roughly controlled the animal, she snarled, "I swear I will kill the sorcerer who has cost me this victory!" 

"It seems Arthur's hedge witch has some talent," said Agravaine wryly. 

"And no sense!" snapped Morgana. "What idiot would work magic for Arthur?" 

"I don't know, but this proves that Arthur is using magic and that will be enough to turn Uther against his son." 

Morgana curled her lip at him. "And how are you going to do that? Those knives react to magic and you've no one to show him that they are anything other than ordinary daggers. Unless you can get Gaius to proclaim them to be magical, and I very much doubt that." 

Agravaine chuckled. "A problem, my Lady, but hardly an insurmountable one. 

I had in mind stopping at Thoal Keep on my way back to Camelot. Arthur is practicing battle tactics with a sorcerer there. There must be some proof of it." 

"I thought you'd already searched there." 

"Which is why they won't expect me to search again." Agravaine inclined his head to the Lady, and passed her his handkerchief before turning his horse on his errand. 

Morgana looked after him, infuriated by his overbearing attitude, but she certainly wasn't going to make any effort to save him from his own folly. 


End file.
